Sexmania 2010

I touch the screen
And start to answer
He touches me
And starts to dance, ha!

We make love indiscreet
And start a sojourn
We make out on the street
And startle many, for long

I fuck him hard and sweet
And he winces in pleasure
I pull it out swift and neat
And answer the call of another

We meet at a workshop
And I flirt with him
We meet at a coffee shop
I later play strings with him

We make passionate love
And I worry about his e-mails
We make delicious breakfast
And I fidget in my g-mail

I have capuccino, he has mocha
And I get a call, a warning
I sip my coffee, he reads out español
And I get shit-scared by the warning

We patch up over Skype
And I flirt with the Superman
We have an argument
And I become Mary Jane

I chat him up for a walk
Meet with him at McDonald's
I and he decide Marine Drive
We chat, cry, expose

We talk a lot on the way back
And hold hands in the train
I and he part at McDonald's
And I take a bus as he walks

I call him up to talk
And he agrees to meet tonight
I and he meet up at his place
And he fucks me to heaven and hell

We talk about meeting up
And he's not sure when and where
I and he part at his door
And we don't even kiss on the lips

I talked up three other men today
And I don't know how and when
I'll meet them and have fun
And it will go on and on

Man Lust

Why are men so attractive?
The cologne, the musk
The rough and tender touch

Why are men so unstoppably attractive?
The stubble, the lust
The clean and defined crust

Why are men so insatiably attractive?
The balls, the cock
The neat trimmed manly chest

Why are men so incredibly hot?
Ain't hard, ain't bad
The chemicals in you and a horny mind

Lust in a Train

He sits across a couple of rows
A fleeting glance, it gets locked
I gaze out the window
Turn my head, I'm locked too

Perfection. The look. There is no other word
Polar opposite otherwise, I presume

Salt and pepper, looks clever
Sharp nose, trimmed black 'stache
Long fingers, three rings
Tucked out shirt, no binger
Fair and handsome
A product of the genes and not a factory

But, there is a Crimson tilak,
Probably listens to Uddhav, the shark
Has a wife, an ugly beast perhaps
And has a business that pays him in heaps

But again, conservative, religious,
And worried that I'm looking back at him

I chew the salted nuts, hoping they could be his
He shifts uncomfortably, and starts his routine prayer

Should i leave him alone?
He's too good to look at!
Is he going to come home?
He's too proud to do that!

I stare on and on, and
every thirty seconds, he catches me
Just the fleeting glance of lust
Of what he lost out on
Because society forced it on him

Society overcame him then
It does now too
The seat vacated next forces him
To readjust himself significantly
So that our eyes won't meet anymore

I start typing this
I get busy at this
Five minutes on, I look up
He's still staring at me

He wants me, but he can't
I want him, but I won't

He dozes away at Bandra
His head bounces up and down
I wish, oh how I wish, I were the reason
And not the train and the gaps in the tracks
And then a crowd blocks my vision
Hell, I won't mind pulling a Kasab, to get my view back

And then I see him staring at me
Eyes locked, not wavering
Had he decided that Sena is sin?
And sodomy is in?

I feel the stirring, a bit of hope
The train will be near empty, it's Dadar

It's my stop but I'm lost in him
And I don't feel sorry
Not for me, but only for him

I feel happy that I made a Sainik
Regain his conscience
Perhaps it's not much
But it's a start, or a semblance